


Summer Slaughter (Kings AU)

by SimplySyra



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Mad King Ryan, Mogar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplySyra/pseuds/SimplySyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jester and the Warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Slaughter (Kings AU)

Late noon sunshine trickled through the leaves, bathing the stone walls of the Court in a warm honeyed glow. Insects hummed gently, their tiny voices fading to silence as time crawled to a halt under the soft golden spell of a lazy afternoon.

The Trickster stretched with all the tense, smooth grace of a cat, and allowed his long lean body to fall back against the solid shoulders of the man seated behind him.

"What’re you thinking about," he asked.

The harsh scrape of fingers honing a blade was broken only by a single noncommittal grunt from his companion

The Jester King let out a dramatic sigh, plucking a flower from the ground and watching with casual disdain as it crumbled to ash in his fingers. Around him, a ring of scorched earth marked his presence as a wound upon the world.

"Well," he continued, despite the lack of any definite reply, "I’m thinking about the dark.

"Mmm," said the other, pausing to test the edge of his blade with the tip of a finger before continuing his task.

"It was there before the Maker made the light. I was there. I saw him make it."

"Mmhm…"

"Well, where did it come from, do you think? Who made it?"

The other shrugged. “Maybe no one made it. Maybe the dark was always there.”

The Trickster sighed, head tilted back, baring his throat to the sky. Time crept by, seconds dropping like stones into the silence.

"The crown calls, Michael. We can wait no more."

The Warrior nodded, sucking at the bead of blood blooming at the tip of his finger. “I’m ready.”

"T̷͙̥͈͈̬h̖͙͇̲͎̯̀ȩ͖̜͕̗͍̖̲n̶͕̺̩̻̗̗ ̺̠̭ŗ̤̗͙̝̤i̡̭s͉e̩ ͎͍̩̖̮a͉̭̬̦n̨̪̼̗̮d͏͇̫̮ ̤̻̟̗̻f̵͔͕̲̘̻̻ͅig̣̣̪͞h̡̯͎̖͖͖̥͍t͕͈̕,҉̭̝̖̟̺ͅ ͞W̺͚͔̬̦̯ͅa̵͇͔̝̦̳r̮͓̼͇̰r͔i͟or͙͕͇͔̰̞.́" 

The Trickster spoke around a sudden mouthful of flame, crackling sparks plummeting to the ground and pitting the earth. His mouth opened wide, impossibly wide, in a smirk that spread across his face until the tips touched his ears. And inside that gaping maw nothing but white hot light, a screaming burning void scarred by purple tongues of lightning.

The Warrior grinned back, unfazed by the blinding incandescence of his opponent. Twin fangs, bright and sharp, flashed hungrily in the summer air. Slowly, deliberately he stood. And as he stood he seemed to grow until he towered above the other, the shadow of his mighty frame rivaling even the brilliance of the Trickster’s fire.

"Come then, old friend. Mogar is waiting."


End file.
